


How to Bed a Rock Star in Three Easy Steps

by laeb



Category: Backstreet Boys, Red Hot Chili Peppers (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Blushing, In which I refer to Nick Carter as The Thing, M/M, Sex, The Thing is 19, bizarre, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-18
Updated: 2004-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:15:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23062798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laeb/pseuds/laeb
Summary: Nick Carter has a thing for Anthony Kiedis.
Relationships: Anthony Kiedis/Nick Carter
Kudos: 1





	1. Step One: The Hand Job

**Author's Note:**

> The events (MTV VMAs, Bilboard awards, EMP, etc.) related in this ark happened and the Peppers were there. Crowe was as well. Everything related to the Thing or the BSBs was made up, though. Not true. I made it all up.
> 
> BETA: None, considering that A) this goes literally nowhere B) this will literally not be read C) I decided I wouldn’t burden the lovely Ana with that crap. *snorts* Thus this warning: I let the spell check run once and re-read myself quickly. I do _not_ apologise for mistakes left in there. Just this once.
> 
> Ok, if you have not yet fled and are wondering why the fuck I write the Thing I’ll entirely blame our dear Lucius / Paddy (aka as ‘Padraig!’ when horny and that Matt cries out his name, scandalised by the dirty comment he used to mail me ;-) ).  
Seriously, it’s Paddy who asked for that pairing (yup, I apparently take requests) when he told me that Anthony was cute but not his type and that I answered by letting him know I would let him and Matt fuck The Thing as much as they wanted as long as I didn’t get involved. Apparently I failed and now Anthony’s fucking Carter as well. Oh, Paddy also specified it had to be ‘rough and sweet’. Hope you’ll like it, luv. And it’s for Drow as well, cos it’s her pet I’m writing about ^^ Lastly, the Thing wasn’t yet a bad boy in 1999-2000 as some might say he is today. No nipple piercings, a tattoo or two. *Innocent*, you could say ;-) There you go!
> 
> Originally posted to my lj in March and April 2004. Retro-posted to AO3 in March 2020.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘I’m your biggest fan!’  
‘Biggest, eh? Let’s take a look.’

Step One: The Hand Job  
  
‘Nice gig, man. . . It’s good to have you back to the top. . .’  
  
‘Thanks.’  
  
‘Great job, Kiedis, having Snoop with you onstage, I don’t think anyone expected this.’  
  
‘Yeah, he was nice enough. . . Flea’s known the guy for a while. . .’  
  
‘Hey.’  
  
‘Hey.’  
  
‘That was a nice performance.’  
  
‘Thank you, kid.’  
  
‘I’ve been a fan for, like, years, you know?’  
  
Anthony smiled at the blushing blonde. ‘You have, haven’t you?’  
  
‘Yeah, I have.’ Anthony thought the man was quite adorable. He looked young, with the blond locks and bright blue eyes.  
  
He’d been bored out of his mind by all those worshippers that had finally acknowledged his band as worthy of notice, fifteen years after the group was born. ‘Bunch of motherfuckers,’ he muttered. “Back from the dead!” “Unexpected coming back!” “Kiedis learned how to sing at last!” The fuck with those ’99 Billboard awards.  
  
Chad was partying with some ladies, Flea was having a talk with different producers that were around: Jerry Harrison, Glen Ballard, Dr Dre. . . John, him, had left, shying away from the crowd, to practice guitar in his hotel room. So Anthony was left alone to deal with all those who’d wanted to suck their dicks now that they were famous again, that Californication was on top of the Soundscan sales charts, that Scar Tissue had broken new records on the hit parade, keeping its number one position for a numbers of weeks Anthony couldn’t even remember anymore.  
  
And here was this young thing, looking at him with eyes so tempting. . . it could be promising and, let’s be frank, might be a good distraction. Yohanna was in Europe and he was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind if he had a little bit of fun. Who knew? Perhaps he would even manage to get her off over the phone by recalling the juicy details. Tony, with a smirk on his face and his blond bangs dancing in front of his dark eyes, looked at the boy. ‘So, what are you doing here? You’re enjoying yourself, at least, aren’t you?’  
  
The young man smiled, ‘I’ve got a pass for the awards and the after-party. Wasn’t too bad, but it’s just, like, you know, another award show. . . Right?’  
  
‘Yeah, I guess it is,’ agreed Anthony, ‘but fuck, I’m tired of smiling and patting shoulders. Wanna move elsewhere? There’s a nice place a bit downtown. . .’  
  
The shyness was suppressed by another smile. ‘sure! That’d be fantastic. I need a couple of minutes though, I’ve got to say bye to a few persons...’  
  
‘Hey, sounds good to me, kid. Outside in five?’  
  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
  
An hour later, Anthony wondered if he’d read the young man correctly in the first place. They’d been chatting, nursing their beers in a quiet corner of the bar, when, at last, the blonde finally gave him an opening.  
  
‘I’m you’re biggest fan, you know?’ Blurted with a sort of cute candour.  
  
Perfect, he thought, just what I needed to make my move.  
  
If it scared the kid away, just too bad, he’d probably never see him again. If not, well, they’d be in for a bit of fun.  
  
‘_Biggest_ fan, eh? Let’s take a look, what do you think?’ quirking an eyebrow suggestively.  
  
The other blonde was opening his mouth to answer Anthony when he felt a large, warm hand on his crotch.  
  
Oh.  
  
Anthony smirked. ‘Is that all you can come up with, kid? Cos, in all honesty, I’ve met _bigger_ fans. . .’  
  
The young man was about retort when it came to his mind that Kiedis was groping him in a public place, where they could get caught, and that idea alone made him instantly hard.  
  
‘Aw. Much better.’  
  
*-*-*  
And he looks in the singer’s deep brown eyes and it’s an electric jolt that courses through his body. The singer’s eyes are smiling, his mouth is twitched in a lopsided grin and when the grip on his dick is accented, a small moan escapes his ruby lips.  
  
‘Tease!’ is moaned.  
  
‘Anytime, baby, anytime.’  
  
And through his pants, the older man starts to jerk him. It feels so fucking good, and there’s this risk of getting caught in the act, isn’t there? The urge to come is getting omnipresent, his eyes are closing by themselves, and he can hear Anthony chuckle under his breath. The man must know the effect he has on the others.  
*-*-*  
  
‘Fuck, I’m so close...’  
  
‘You are, aren’t you?’ And with a flick of his wrist, he sent the kid over the edge; his own breath accelerating slightly through the whole process. The blue-eyed boy, him, tried to keep himself under control, which had been a hard thing to do, considering the talent of the older man and the whole "unexpected" feeling of the experience.  
  
Panting heavily, he stifled his moan by biting his lower lip, feeling his briefs quickly getting uncomfortable, sticky and wet. He perceived the weight of a hand on his shoulder, as though someone was patting him gently, and briefly opened his eyes to meet dancing ones looking at him before closing his again.  
  
‘Thanks, kid, for the... _entertainment_. You really were the highlight of my evening.’ He felt a slick tongue trace the shell of his ear, then nothing and Nick knew he was alone.


	2. Step Two: The Blow Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Nice socks. . . what size already?’  
‘Knee length, actually.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a) For Paddy cos he asked me nicely  
b) For Drow too cos I love her and it’s her pet i’m talking about

Step Two: The Blow Job  
  
  
Anthony was spent, literally. They’d give their one hundred and ten percent for that show, the crow’s been huge, enthusiastic and driven by their songs. And the encore. . . Flea, Chad John and himself had turned them wild, simple as that.  
  
It was the second time they’d done the ‘rock on with your socks on’ trick since they were back together with John. Before that, they’d done the grand opening of the EMP museum. Milla’d been there, Anthony recalled, and she’d giggled like a schoolgirl, though she also admitted they were ‘hot stuff’ for old guys like that.  
  
And, to be completely honest, he had to agree. If Chad had a small bit of tummy and what getting bald, he was still healthy and fit. Flea was still slim-build and bouncing everywhere and John. . . well he was not thirty yet. As for himself, he knew he had a muscled body with great abs and a strong back. Women were telling him often enough. Some men, too.  
  
  
There was a knock on the door.  
  
  
‘Yeah?’  
  
‘Hey, K.’  
  
‘Louie. Everything alright?’  
  
‘Yeah, buddy, all’s good. But...’  
  
‘Out with it!’ Kiedis’s curiosity was piqued. Louie Mathieu, their long-time friend and tour manager was never one to disturb him after a show when it was the unwinding time before he would jump in their tour bus and head for another city.  
  
‘Well, there’s this guy who wanted to see you,’ Louie said with a quirk of the eyebrow.  
  
‘Indeed?’  
  
‘Yup. Want me to send him in?’ There was a smile on his friend’s face that Anthony suddenly wanted to wipe away. The little fucker.  
  
‘Sure, send him my way.’  
  
With that damn smirk in his face, Louie left the room, closing the door, but not before he gave Anthony a last saucy wink. Two minutes later, he heard a second knock at the door. It opened slightly and a blond head slipped between the threshold and the door. Blue eyes struck him and a flash of recognition, though very foggy, stirred something in his memory. He’d seen that kid before. But where?  
  
‘Hey.’  
  
‘Hey.’  
  
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry or anything, but your manager asked if I was interested in going backstage and meeting you.’  
  
That was so like Louie to do such a thing that he believed the kid instantly and chuckled to himself. ‘He did, didn’t he?’ An enticing blush coloured the blonde’s cheeks. ‘Well, yeah.’  
  
‘And you were interested in coming backstage?’ Eyes avoided Anthony’s searching one, ‘Or weren’t you?’  
  
The boy was shuffling on his feet and damn it if it wasn’t a funny sight! ‘I was. You don’t remember me, do you?’  
  
Kiedis frowned, searching his memory for the exact moment when he’d seen the blonde the previous time. ‘The hand job in downtown L. A., right?’ A brief, curt nod. ‘Though so. And, tell me, what do I owe the pleasure of your presence for, tonight?’  
  
‘Repayment.’  
  
It was Anthony’s turn to lift an eyebrow. ‘Repayment?, eh?’  
  
The blonde nodded, took a deep breath and finally looked at him in the eyes for the first time since he’d entered the room. ‘Nice socks by the way,’ he said, referring to the encore of tonight’s show, ‘what size already?’  
  
Anthony smirked at the blunt change of topic, but didn’t comment. Instead, he answered, with a wink, ‘Knee-length, actually.’  
  
Without another word, the boy got to his knees, undoing the man’s pants and jerking them down to the brunette’s ankles. He looked up to Anthony’s face with gleaming eyes and an innocent pout. ‘You said knee-length.’ Anthony snorted instead of answering, moving his hand until its fingers were running in the blonde’s locks. His erected member was jutting proudly, bouncing against his lower stomach.  
  
‘Try to take the whole thing first, kid, before asking for knee-length stuff. Wouldn’t want to choke on me now, would you?’ And to mark his words, he tightened his grip on the boy’s hair and purposely moved his head in the direction of his almost hairless crotch. Pink lips were licked by a rosy tongue and suddenly, the mouth opened widely and engulfed him, the head of his dick already resting on the back on the other one’s throat. ‘Fuck!’ A reverberating moan was the only answer he got.  
  
But what an answer. The kid was humming around his dick and Anthony felt it in his bones, and started bucking his hips, fucking the warm, wet, welcoming mouth with all his might. He could feel the muscles around his dick contracting, felt him swallow around him delightfully.  
  
‘Fuck, but you’re good, kid!’  
  
An appreciative glance came from the blue eyes and a skilled tongue thanked him in its own way. At long last, Anthony felt himself getting closer to the edge. The blonde’s hands were resting on his strong hips, sometimes wandering on his bum to squeeze lightly.  
  
When he was ready to explode, he gripped the hair more forcefully, to warn him, but the only answer he got was the curling of lips around the base of his shaft and a wink. Kiedis came hard, with a few colourful words, and he felt the muscles of his thighs quivering at the same moment he thought his knees would buckle; so he moved his hands to the younger man’s shoulders and shuddered for the longest of time.  
  
The blonde released him, licking his lips as though he was enjoying the sweetest of nectars. After putting his pants up, Anthony help him back to his feet and walked to a nearby stuffed chair, only to slump on it heavily. ‘You little motherfucker,’ he muttered breathlessly.  
  
He watched as the blonde winked at him, made his way to the door and left without another word, closing the door behind him. Anthony looked at his watch and started counting down.  
  
‘Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four—’ and the door burst open again. A tattoo-covered man with a boy in his arms entered the room. Gently shooing Cash in Anthony’s direction, Louie smirked, arms crossed over his chest, with a wriggle of his eyebrows.  
  
‘So, tell me. How was he?’  
  
‘Louie?’  
  
‘That’d be me.’  
  
‘Fuck you.’


	3. Step Three: Of Flirting and Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘FUCK! You’re big!’  
‘Missed me?’

Step Three: Of Flirting and Games  
  
  
  
And yet another party, thought Anthony, checking around the place. He could see Chris Rock in a corner, John was chatting with a buch of guitarists, Chad was all over the ladies and Flea seemed to be in quite a conversation with Dr Dre. Which left him alone, again, to deal with the so called fans and admirers and other butt-licking devotees from the music industry who’d do anything to be seen in the next edition of People magazine, standing close to a star or another.  
  
So, he stood unnoticed in his corner (or at least trying not to be noticed) with a Budweiser in one hand, sipping it distractedly. . . Until he literally choked on his drink.  
  
Anthony Kiedis did _not_ believe in fate. Not of that kind, anyway. The blond boy he’d seen about a year ago at the Billboard Awards, and then just a couple of months ago at his own show, was there again, with a bunch of other guys, all clad in similar clothes.  
  
Frowning, he made his way to Sheryl Crow. Wrapping a friendly arm around her waist, he leaned closer, whispering in her ear, ‘Sheryl, honey, who’s that blond over there?’ tilting his head in the general direction of the boy.  
  
After a few seconds, taking the time she needed to identify the one Anthony was talking about, she chuckled, her shoulders shaking almost imperceptibly.  
  
‘That, sweetheart, would be Nick Carter, of the Backstreet Boys!’ And while Sheryl laughed loudly and heartily, Anthony could only choke for the second time in five minutes.  
  
‘The motherfucker.’  
  
Mirth dancing in her eyes, Sheryl winked at him, ‘Know the boy, Anthony?’  
  
With a new gleam in his eyes and a few seconds of deliberation, he answered, ‘You could say that, yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Sheryl, I have some business to attend to.’ He let go of her and smoothly walked straight to his prey.  
  
The bastard. He wasn’t furious or anything, more like amused in a twisted way. _Nick_ had played a game and he got caught. Now was the time for _him_ to play the game. And the boy, no –_Nick_ would have quite a bit back for his bargain. The jackpot.  
  
He stopped his course a few feet away from the group where _Nick_ was chatting and turned his head around, observing what was going on around one last time, noticing Sheryl, winking at him.  
  
He took a calming breath and slid the last few feet separating him from the blond, copied the act he’d practised with Sheryl by catching _Nick_ in his arms and locking him within them tightly. He felt the kid becoming rigid in his arms and so he leaned his head closer, letting his chin rest on his shoulder, his warm breath probably tickling the ear close by. He had yet to speak and he could see that the boy’s friends didn’t have a clue about what was going on.  
  
With a soft chuckle, he finally let the blonde know who it was.  
  
‘Hello, Nicky. I didn’t expect to meet you here, baby,’ he slurred in a husky tone, and with a smirk on his face. Just loud enough so that the other boys surrounding Nick could hear and enjoy the embarrassment of their friend, who was now sporting a lovely shade of cherry red all over his face and ears. Yes, Kiedis thought, red definitely suited him.  
  
But Nick was still tensed and had yet to answer Anthony. Faking a pout, Anthony decided to bring the game to a whole new level. ‘You don’t remember me now, do you? I was your biggest—’  
  
Nick choked, but on what exactly he choked would remain a mystery for the other men around him started to laugh, muffling Anthony’s last words, which were lost to everyone but Nick, ‘fan.’  
  
Cheekily, giving him a peck on the temple, he released the blonde with a, ‘Was nice seeing you again, Nicky! Unexpected, but nice. See you again some time, I guess, baby?’ and he walked away with a new bounce to his pace, deciding to go see Sheryl again as she’d followed the whole thing from afar.  
  
Locking arms with her, he embraced the woman lightly, leading her to the dance floor without much resistance. When they were settled, he cocked his head to the side and asked her, ‘So, how was I?’  
  
She finally let go of all her previous control, giggling madly. ‘I don’t know what you told him, Anthony, but I think you haven’t lost your talent for acting. You might want to consider doing films, again. You should have seen the faces of the other boys... I swear I could see them snickering... that Carter boy... he won’t be able to live it down.’  
  
Anthony grinned widely and spun Sheryl around, now realising that Louie had probably known who he’d dragged backstage during the summer, thus the incessant pestering about what’d happened behind the closed door of the relaxation room. Louie was so dead.  
  
‘Good, that’ll teach him a thing or two.’  
  
After a while, they moved back to a quiet table where they simply enjoyed talking of tours and future projects, until Sheryl’s features brightened up. She leaned close on him. ‘He’s coming this way... wanna play?’ He winked at her, thanking her willingness and the good will she was putting in this little game.  
  
Lifting her hand from where it rested on the table, she caressed the side of his head gently. ‘I really love what you did to your mohawk... To bleach the short hair and keep the mohawk black... Real fashion style. That and the kilt, of course.’ Her tone’d been sweet and Anthony, playing her game, put his hand on Sheryl’s, took it and brought it to his mouth to kiss it gently.  
  
‘Thanks. You’ve always been a sweetheart, Sheryl. And I _really_ appreciate that. What do you say if we—’  
  
Someone coughed right next to them.

  
‘Ahem...’  
  
Anthony didn’t move his head, but smirked for Sheryl, who made an almost imperceptible nod to him, the right corner of her mouth curling genuinely. Her eyes left those of the rocker to lay on the cute face of the blonde she’d identified earlier in the evening. He’d stopped blushing, at least.  
  
‘Yes?’ said the singer, lifting a delicate eyebrow, ‘Can I help you with something, kid?’  
  
Oh, lovely. The blush had just returned. She let herself smile widely, and squeezed Anthony’s hand, who was watching her features carefully.  
  
‘Sorry to bother you. . .’  
  
‘Sheryl.’  
  
‘Sorry to bother you, Sheryl, but could I talk to Anthony for a moment?’ Feet shuffling the floor and Anthony almost giggled.  
  
‘Anthony, can that boy...’  
  
‘Nick.’  
  
‘Anthony, can that Nick talk to you for a moment?’  
  
Shrugging his shoulders, he answered, ‘Why not?’  
  
He turned around, checking Nick from his feet to his head slowly, scrutinisingly, and then returned to fix his sight on the eyes. ‘Yes? What can I do for you, Nicky?’  
  
Fuck me trough the mattress tonight, was the answer that came to his mind, but maybe it wasn’t the wisest answer when there were people around... Especially that Sheryl Crow woman, who seemed to know Anthony quite well.  
  
‘Could we go speak somewhere else? In private?’  
  
‘Sure. Lead the way, kid.’  
  
  
. . .  
  
  
‘FUCK! ...you’re big!’  
  
‘Missed me?’  
  
  
  
~*~ _finis_ ~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who actually had the patience to read this and let me know! *MWAH!*


End file.
